I want to know how C.K died

C.K Personal Information: Name: Shen Ke (C.K) Gender: Female Zodiac Sign: Libra Blood Type: Type B Height: 163CM Hometown: Hunan Birthday: October 22, 1987 Sexual Orientation: Bisexual, heterosexual Play with spiritual love, and play with physical intercourse with the same sex. There is really very little information about c.k, so many things are not very clear. - Death of C.K: Date: February 13, 2008 Place: Hospital Process: Pull out the infusion tube. Cause of death: Suicide In his final moments of despair, C.K took more than 80 sleeping pills and injected ice with a dagger into his thigh and wrist. He kept cutting his wrist, and even saw a deep bone. However, he was discovered by his aunt around 9 a.m. the next day. He failed in his suicide attempt and was taken to the doctor by ambulance. The first night after the rescue was successful. She chose suicide again. The IV tube was removed. - About C.K: Her grandfather is Irish, and she is one-quarter Irish. To be honest, she looks a bit scary and makes people afraid to approach her. Actually, she is very cute. It's a pity that she died. She was actually quite talented. Many record companies approached her, but for some reason, they didn't know about her until she died. She is a pharmacist, a gothic woman. She has a small face and a pointed chin, and a black scorpion tattoo on the left side of her face. I once had five holes drilled at once, including an eyebrow nail, a tongue nail, two lip nails, and a terrifying breast nail. She said: I will die again and again to prove that life is endless. Her voice is very special and her lyrics are very special. She, C.K/Shen Ke, has a special name, a special surname, and a special fascination with death. All in all, she is special. Let us miss C.K and that mysterious woman. - C.K’s last diary: My stomach hurts. He was sitting in a soft chair with a weird posture. The whole body is covered in sweat. Probably hungry. I mustered up the energy to stand up and go find some baking soda biscuits to eat. My stomach cramped even more. He rushed into the bathroom and retched. Nothing can come out. I could only squat down and pick my throat out of habit. As soon as I put my fingers in, I felt nauseated. I finally spit out a little bit, and my gastric juices lubricated my esophagus. I just want to spit out this discomfort. After picking at it for a minute or two, my fingertips became harder and harder. There were drops of blood on the white tiles. I don’t know if the nails dug into my throat or if I’m bleeding from the nose. In short, blood began to pour out of my throat and nose, mixed with stomach acid and filth, and gurgled out. His face and hands were covered in blood and saliva. I was a little hysterical. I just wanted to vomit everything in my stomach, so that I could feel better. When I stood up, everything went dark. He staggered and leaned against the wall for a while. He stared at his embarrassed self in the bathroom mirror in front of his eyes. This scene is repeated almost every day every year. So tired. What holiday is today? It seems to be New Year's Eve. Fireworks were set off everywhere, and the night outside the window lit up like day. Ears, but can't hear anything. The nosebleeds are still flowing. Slip it from the corner of your mouth, down your chin and onto your collarbone and chest. A mouthful of fishy sweetness. I washed my face with cold water randomly. He tilted his neck and remained motionless, finally stopping the nosebleed. Go back to the room. Go online. The dim light of the computer. Look at her signature written with little jokes about Mr. Bai and Mrs. Bai. After looking at her for a long time, she still looked gray. Suddenly he cried. -- What C.K said to everyone: Excerpted from c.k space. I am neither an artist nor a public figure, so I don't need to tolerate anyone or please anyone, especially since it's just a network. Just take a look if you like, and get out if you don’t agree with it. I will always delete those who deliberately make trouble for me on Q. I still make a habit of deleting those who say things I don’t want to hear in this space. Whether you have a personality or not is none of my business. I didn't mess with you. I just sleepwalked in my own little territory and never messed with anyone.

If you scratch me with your claws, I can kick you out at any time. I didn't bother you, could you please stop bothering me too. Some people added me to brag about your so-called music, so-called HIPHOP, and so-called rock and roll. Sorry, I'm not interested in any of the above. To be precise, I don't hate music, I hate most of these self-righteous rock and roll fans. Each one of you imagines that you have the sharpest, most talented, and most tempered views in the world. However, your extraordinary talent has not been discovered, and you are full of extreme opinions and are degenerate. Even if you are vain and self-delusional, you still have to make me agree with you. Even if I am slow to reply to a message, I will make you yell at me. Isn’t it hurting your liver? So maybe I can't respond to your excitement and enthusiasm, which makes you feel that your self-esteem is hurt, and you angrily attack me personally, or take the initiative to delete me, and announce to your circle of equally cute children that CK talked to you today. Ignore her what a boring person she is. Okay, then just stay there. You see, I am as empty as you. I went to your place to pull a bunch of non-nutritious things, and then I quickly slipped back and spread bad things about you to my friends. How about making up some story, preferably about me secretly admiring your graceful demeanor and losing control of it hysterically, so you had to accidentally have an affair with me. What do you want to prove? Prove that you are the embodiment of light and justice. Or prove that you are Godzilla, the darkest, sexiest and most invincible in the world of darkness. Transformers for you. I really can't learn to take you seriously. For the group mentioned above. Love so and so. .